


The Violence and Lopsidedness Only Extreme Youth Can Know

by rainydaymanda



Category: Leopold and Loeb, Nathan Leopold/Richard Loeb - Fandom
Genre: Bullying, High School AU, Knifeplay, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, au where no one dies, theater kid AU, this took a turn for the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8193425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydaymanda/pseuds/rainydaymanda
Summary: The lead in the school play falls for the dorky tech geek. What more could you want? Oh, and he has a knife.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I promised a few friends I'd have this done by tonight. Sorry the formatting is utter shit, I'm on mobile. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Nathan Leopold lived backstage in his high school auditorium. Well, not quite; there were an odd seven or eight hours of the day that he spent in his actual Kenwood home. However, when he was not sleeping or in class, Nathan Leopold could be found doing odd and often technical jobs for the drama club.   
Despite heading the department, he wasn’t popular among his peers and this didn’t bother him. In fact, that was the whole point for him: no one noticed how he slaved away, spending hours on a single prop, only to have some moronic actor misstep and break it into pieces. 

No one cared whether or not he showed up to rehearsals; all they wanted was a fine set and some properly installed technical equipment on opening night, both of which Nathan could provide with the help of his team of underclassmen.  Certainly, Richard Loeb didn’t notice. As the star of the show, he had no time to worry about lowly tech geeks, Nathan thought. Between memorizing lines, staying top of their senior class, and not being a queer, the odds of Richard Loeb giving a shit about Nathan Leopold were slim to none.   
This harsh reality didn’t change a thing. It didn’t change the way Nathan wanted to know if his hands felt as calloused as they looked. It didn’t change how badly he wanted to run his fingers through Richard’s hair. It didn’t change the way he looked at him when Richard was acting, wildly gesticulating and commanding the stage, as though he put the stars in the sky.   
It certainly didn’t change his daydreams, during most of which they were lying in a field counting clouds, embracing and laughing at nothing. But, some of them involved Richard backing Nathan into a wall, wrapping those calloused hands around his neck, squeezing. Oh god, he just wouldn’t stop squeezing.    
In this genre of fantasies, he would often picture Richard holding him protectively, kissing his hair and comfortingly rubbing his back. When Nathan would pull away and look up at him, Richard would place one hand on his cheek, pull out a knife, and bleed him dry. He would even try to feign discomfort at these daydreams. He wanted so badly to feel terrible about them.  Some days, looking at Richard made his chest tighten so deeply he’d have to take a moment to remember how to breathe.  Loving him wasn’t always so painful. It was easier to digest the knot in his stomach when he saw Richard smile ever so slightly as he handed him a prop. The butterflies when their hands would brush backstage was more than worth the suffering that came with not being his.  
  All this he considered as he hammered away at the set piece he had self assigned, until he felt a hand on his shoulder tighten and then release. 

 

“Nathan.”   
The voice behind those words could’ve woken Nathan out of a coma. He spun around and looked up at Richard, the same way he did in all of his daydreams, and felt himself go three shades redder. Their chests were awfully close. He reached behind him and felt the cool cement wall. His back was an inch away.    
“Why are you still here, Nathan? It’s eight at night.” 

Richard got a little closer, moving his thumb gently down from his shoulder to form a strong grip on his collarbone. He squeezed again, this time more purposefully, with his index finger pressed against his throat.   
Nathan resisted the urge to whine, to cry, to choke out the words “because you’re here, you’re always here”, and instead whispered “I’m working on a set.”   
Richard pressed Nathan against the wall fully, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“You’re a queer, aren’t you? I see the way you look at me. Nathan, look at me.” 

 

Nathan removed his head from it’s previous location of Richard’s chest and looked up at him shamefully, apologetically. Richard noticed how big and wet his eyes looked, even in the darkness of stage left.

“Say you’re sorry, Nathan. Say you’re sorry for being weak. Apologize to me for being so pathetic.” 

Nathan felt tears welling up in his eyes. "So that’s what this is,“ he thought, "He’s here to humiliate me, and kick my ass.” 

In a final attempt to protect his dignity, despite the growing bulge in his pants, he mumbled “Fuck you.”

Richard dropped his jaw in mock surprise and pulled his pocket knife. 

“Nathan, I’m disappointed in you. I’m going to give you one more chance, okay? You’re going to say sorry to me, because you’re pathetic. Look at yourself, you’re weak for me. Tell me you want me, Nathan. Tell me you’re sorry.” 

Richard softly ran his knife from the curve of Nathan’s jaw to his collarbone and felt him shiver. Nate couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and had to suppress a chuckle at himself. The great love of his life was going to murder him in cold blood, and he had a boner.

Richard looked down and laughed blatantly. 

“You’re disgusting.”

Nathan felt all of his pride leave his body in one fell swoop. He made the words sound romantic. “At least,” he revelled internally in the idea, “at least if I die tonight, I’ll die happy."

Richard smiled big, closed his eyes as if to absorb the moment, and touched their noses together as Nathan started, holding the knife to his jugular all the while.

“I’m sorry I’m so weak, Richard. I’m weak for you, I’m so pathetic, it’s disgusting. Please hurt me. I deserve to be hurt. I only come to rehearsals to see you, because you’re so beautiful, and I’m nothing and I don’t deserve you even touching me, but oh my god, please, don’t stop, jesus. I’ve wanted you for so long and now you’re here and I just want you to touch me, please, just touch me. I think about you all the time, and, and, when I’m alone, I need to think of you or I can’t….please, just, please, Richard, don’t leave me. Please take care of me.”

It was all Richard needed to hear to roll his hips violently into Nathan’s, and that was all Nathan needed to come. Nathan felt something warm settling in the pit of his stomach, something he didn’t even have a name for. He cried out once into his chest, wrapping his arms around Richard in a tight hug to steady himself as he came down from the high. 

He sobbed gently and Richard held him, guiding his chin to his lips, pecking him softly and putting the knife away with his free hand. 

“Babe,” he whispered, so not to disturb him in his vulnerable state, “go home. It’s getting late. Can I see you here tomorrow?" 

It shocked Nate how soft Richard could be with him, through all his cruel gestures and tough talk. Nathan mumbled in the affirmative and kissed him one last time. Long, loving, neither could taste malice on the others lips. As they walked home their separate ways, Nathan wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. He wanted so badly to feel guilty.


End file.
